Amara
by AngeliqueBouchard1972
Summary: Barnabas never thought he would have a lineage of his own. Angelique never thought she would tell him that he did. Slight AU. Present day. AB/DS.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, well. Another book? Haven't you run out of book ideas? Not yet my dears, not yet. Actually, I have another one I'm planning on starting soon as well. But that would be very different from this one. So, I'm sure you might have some questions about what I'm going to be doing here, so I'll just jump right in and tell you.**

 **I have had this idea for longer than I can remember. At least four years I've been mulling this over. Mulling what over, you ask? A story about Barnabas' daughter. Now I know that the few of you who know my books have read Cracks, which I started many years ago (Note: that book is very embarrassing and I hope to make a much better story than that here) know I already wrote about his daughter with Angelique. This will be very different and not similar to that story at all.**

 **I might be going into more details later on about specific characters and the movement of this work as a whole, but for now I say we should just get into it, yes? I think so.**

 **DISCLAIMERS:**

 **This story will be AU in the sense that it takes place in the present day and not in the 1970's or the 1770's. Because of that, obviously, characters will be different ages.**

 **I will be using characters from the TV show The Vampire Diaries. However, I really didn't want to make this a crossover because that is not the point of this book. Damon, Stefan, Elena, Katherine and a few others will be mentioned and some will be part of the story but the seasons and drama of the show itself will mostly be put on the backburner. Damon will be a character in this story but he is not one of the main characters.**

 **All vampires will be "Vampire Diaries" vampires. Barnabas will look like he did as a human. He will still be unable to go out in the sun, but most of the other curses will not be part of this story. He will be pale, but not inhumanely pale. Reflections, silver and other vampire "afflictions" will not affect him, just like the vampires in the Vampire Diaries. Also, when he was in the coffin for centuries, just like in the Vampire Diaries, he would not have been conscious for it because he would have been in a mummified state.**

 **Note: Unlike my other works that are often rated M, this story will be rated T (for language, sexual references and alcohol use).**

 **This story is dedicated to MissAmyCat. Thank you for your support, love!**

 **** Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Shadows or The Vampire Diaries. ****

* * *

Amara

* * *

Collinsport, October 2016

A slight breeze shifted her dark hair as she stepped into the car. The autumn air was crisp and yet filled with the smell of the sea. Amara had always missed that. The aura of her hometown, with it's salty air and ragged terrain. Maine always had a very distinct feeling. The fog was constant, the waves never quite reaching a precipice. The trees, impressively tall and now bursting with color, gave the land a sense of enlightenment.

Amara couldn't quite comprehend all the emotions she was feeling. Of course, she never fully did. But she did know that she was excited. Was she anxious, perplexed, fervent? Perhaps. But she was defiantly excited. She pushed the ignition button and pulled out of the driveway. The drive was short, but not nearly short enough. When Amara had gotten the phone call she was astonished. Sure, Angelique had kept things from her before, but nothing like this. Nothing remotely like this.

She drove through the open gates of Collinwood. Amara had never been inside the gates before. Actually, she didn't think that she had ever been to this side of town before. Towering trees on either side of the drive enclosed her in the darkness of anticipation. She had no idea what to expect of him. Was she supposed to desire something from him? She wasn't quite sure. All she knew was that he had no idea about her.

Angelique had expected her to wait. But Amara had never held so much anticipation in her life. She wasn't about to wait to be introduced. Besides, she was sure she could make a better impression on her own.

She quickly exited her car and stared up at the mansion. It looked so different up close. It was seemingly in very good shape. Every bush and hedge was trimmed to perfection. The only noise she could hear was the fountain trickling in the center of the drive, calming her racing heart for a few moments. Amara quickly made her way to the front door and knocked. She had many inclinations, but was weary of trusting any of them. She didn't know him. There was no way that she could. Nor could she know if he had any interest in knowing her after what her mother had done. Yes, Angelique had mentioned that they were on better terms at the moment, but Amara was not quick to trust her.

Footsteps approached the door. Amara quickly fixed her windswept hair before the door opened.

"Hello." The face of a woman greeted her. She was young and fairly beautiful, but her gaze was serious. She was dressed casually in a black top and jeans, with blonde hair that came down to her shoulders.

"Hello," Amara's voice was amiable, her lips curling upwards as she spoke, "My name is Amara Bouchard. I'm here to speak with Barnabas Collins if he's available." The woman looked her over for a moment. Amara could tell that she was trying to figure out who she was. She then pressed her lips together and gave Amara a small smile as she outstretched her hand.

"My name is Carolyn Stoddard." Amara took her hand and smiled gracefully. Carolyn gave her a slightly odd look. She didn't blame her for being curious, or even apprehensive. She did look a lot like her mother.

"Please, come inside." Amara stepped into the foyer and took a few moments to adjust to the sheer size of the house. Yes, it looked large on the outside, but not to the extent that it really was. It looked more like a palace than a private home.

"Thank you." The main room was massive, seemingly going on forever. The ceilings were extremely high, accented by the grand chandelier. Amara smirked at the design. It resembled an octopus. Whomever designed the house must have had a delightful sense of humor.

"You said your last name was Bouchard?" Carolyn blinked at her, trying her hardest to keep her face completely neutral. Amara turned her attention back to her.

"Yes." She said plainly. Carolyn tilted her head to the side.

"Are you by any chance related to Angelique Bouchard?" Carolyn ventured.

"I am," she replied and she gave a slight nod. Carolyn wondered if they were sisters. It seemed like it, but she wasn't quite sure if she should ask. Carolyn didn't want to get very mixed up in his affairs. What Angelique did to him, what she was, and that she somehow was on good terms with him after all she had done was enough to convince her that she didn't want to be associated with her at all. Strangely, though, she didn't ever remember hearing that Angelique had a sister. Or any family, for that matter. Then she licked her lips and remembered why the woman was here in the first place.

"Would you care for something to drink? We have coffee." Carolyn offered but Amara shook her head in the negative.

"I'm fine, but thank you." Carolyn nodded and Amara continued to look around the room. It was so much to take in. Wood carvings of mermaids and sea creatures were literally part of the house. The floor was intricately tiled in an overlapping pattern of blue and white. The same blue color was all around on the walls, just above the mahogany wainscoting lining the room. Antique portraits were found all around the room, varying in size and shape.

"Well, by all means come in and have a seat. I'll just go fetch Barnabas." Amara smiled and walked towards the main sitting area as Carolyn headed into a room on the left, presumably a parlor or drawing room of sorts.

Amara thought about sitting down, but she was too anxious. It would only be a few seconds now. She would see him. She exhaled deeply through her nose and prayed to God that he would want to know her. Meet her, even.

Suddenly the doors to the parlor opened and Carolyn walked out, followed by a man in a dark suit. That was him. It must be. Amara stopped herself from gaping at him as he approached because, dear goodness, they looked so similar. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and yet thin. He was dressed in an impeccable dark coat jacket and pants, with a silk cravat tucked into his crisp white dress shirt. His clothes made him look older, she thought. He was handsome and seemingly young, maybe thirty. His eyes were a beautiful chocolate brown, nearly the same color as his short hair. He had a strong jaw, but otherwise smooth features. His face was accented by an elegant nose and soft lips, much like her own. She watched him intently as he came to stand in front of her and bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn't believe it.

"Amara, this is Barnabas Collins." The first thing he noticed about her was how she so intensely resembled Angelique. The shape of her eyes and her nose, her tall, hourglass frame and wide smile all tipped him off to the fact that they were related. Her eyes lit up as he looked her over, a bit surreptitiously, and outstretched his hand. She shook it quickly and couldn't help but smile at him broadly. He was a bit cold to the touch, but she was used to that. She was well acquainted with vampires.

"Pleasure to meet you. Miss Bouchard, is it?" Amara nodded quickly before she let out a small laugh. The British accent caught her off guard. She hadn't expected him to be British, but it made sense.

"Yes." She smiled at him gleefully, showing off her pearly white teeth. Barnabas scowled and blinked at the woman, his confusion only growing. Carolyn pursed her lips and looked to him with something akin to inquiry. Amara seemed like a normal, modern American. Probably in her early twenties. The more Barnabas watched her, however, the more he noticed her resemblance to himself. Impossible, of course, so he tried to put it out of mind. She was most certainly of the current age. She was wearing a leather jacket over a chiffon burgundy top, dark jeans and boots. Her very dark brown hair was cascading over her shoulders in blown-out waves, framing her lovely face. He opened his mouth to speak but Amara cut him off.

"I'm sorry, I must seem crazy right now," Amara explained, "I'm so jetlagged. As soon as Angelique told me, Damon and I took the soonest flight here. I just dropped him off; I thought you could meet him later. I was actually supposed to wait for Angelique to get off work, but I just couldn't. I had to see you." Barnabas listened with furrowed brows. Her explanations only disoriented him further. She returned her gaze to him and as soon as she saw his perplexed expression and parted lips she huffed slightly.

"Right," she acknowledged, "You have no idea who I am." She looked him in the eyes and he inhaled sharply.

"I'm afraid not, my dear." Barnabas shook his head and Amara put her hand over her mouth, as if she was in shock. She huffed joyfully before she removed her hand from her mouth to cross it over her chest.

"Neither did I. Not until last night, that is." Her tone was more serious than before, more thoughtful. Her brown eyes, so very much like his, sparkled in anticipation as she looked at him.

"I'm your daughter."

* * *

Goodness, I love cliffhangers. They just make a story fun, don't they? Anyways, I know this story might seem odd right now. That's okay. I just really wanted to put it to paper. So - what did you think? Was it intriguing? Boring? Please let me know...


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! Since I'm really feeling good about this story so far, here's another chapter. BTW, I'm looking forward to this book because it won't be confined to the usual rigid formatting of my other stories. This is a book much easier to write. Good for you guys! You'll get updates much more often than usual.**

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

Barnabas blinked, unmoving. He let out a shaky breath, his mind refusing to consider the possibility. What he heard, it was just his own sick mind playing tricks on him. It was impossible. This girl, this _stranger_ was so clearly modern. So young. He must have simply heard her wrong.

"Pardon?" He asked, his voice much quieter than usual. Amara swallowed thickly. She couldn't make out his expression just yet, and that caused great inhibitions in her. What if he rejected her? She didn't know if she could bear not being able to know him.

"I'm your child... Angelique never told you about me." Barnabas lowered his head and blinked numerous times. He saw Carolyn place her hand over her mouth in shock and turn to look at him. His inner monologue had stopped entirely. There was simply too much to think about.

"She said that you weren't around at the time of my birth." Barnabas scowled. _Around._ He was in coffin for God's sake. But then again, how else would she phrase it?

"I'm sorry my dear, but you must have me mistaken." He looked back to Amara and her cupid's bow lips and large brown eyes that were mirrors of his own. Amara took a deep breath before crossing into shaky territory.

"You are Barnabas Collins, yes?" He scowled and nodded. Amara raised her eyebrows.

"Then you are my father." He exhaled quickly and took a small step towards her. He would prove this wrong. He would have known if he had gotten Angelique pregnant. He would have seen, he would have known. Wouldn't he?

"What is your age, Amara?" He asked calmly, hesitant about her answer. He swore that if he was alive his heart would be pounding in his chest.

"I'll turn two-hundred and forty in June." Her words were casual, spoken as normally as if she would have said she was twenty-four. Barnabas quickly turned his attention to her, facing her directly. He stopped breathing. Carolyn asked her something but Barnabas was too deep in thought to process it.

She was born in June, so she must have been conceived in... Oh God. He remembered it so clearly. October of 1776. It was the worst month of his life. He remembered being with Angelique then. It was one of the first days of October. The trees had just lost their leaves, and chilling wind swept up the land in a freezing caress. He had been fighting with Angelique for a while at that point, many years after he had first started to see her. His engagement was sparking great jealously in her, he knew. And it was not as if she didn't have good reason for being jealous. He was lying to both Josette and Angelique, telling the other that he spent all his affections only on them. But he knew he was going to have to stop his affair with Angelique eventually. He didn't want Josette to know anything about them, for she would be heartbroken.

The beginning of October was the last time he slept with Angelique. She was angry at him. She knew he was lying about his affections. He called upon her less often than he did before, he doted upon her less; and every time he did he held an odd expression about him, one of lust and frustration and blame all at the same time. And she could literally see him falling in love with Josette before her very eyes. It drove her crazy.

The thing was, he was still completely enamored with Angelique. Sexually, that was. He lusted after her like he did the first day they were together. He dreamt about her. And it bothered him at some times, truly, that his own handmaiden could do such things to him. Yes, he knew her closely, intimately, but still. He was overcome with desire for her. Several times a day his mind would go to her. Because, God, she was beautiful. He would start with paperwork and get completely distracted thinking about her. Her skin, her eyes, her voice. She was mesmerizing. Barnabas had been sleeping with her for a long time, but his desire for her never faded. Only his pretense of love did.

In the beginning, however, it was different. He would shower her with gifts and kisses and soft words. He craved her, but in another way, he also pitied her. It made him feel guilty to know that even though he was so blatantly encouraging her affections, he didn't mean the one's he gave in return. Nor could he ever have a relationship with her that extended beyond the bedroom. She was poor and going nowhere, at least in his mind, and yet he knew he gave her false hope. Because after every time they were together and after he would give her books and necklaces and perfumes, he could feel his mind splitting in two. He was in constant conflict and self loathing, and it was all because of her. At least, that was what he thought.

And this conflict within him, it inevitably destroyed their relationship. He became needy and at the same time, distant. The doting stopped. He no longer wrote her notes after he left her room early in the morning, or stared longingly into her eyes. Their relationship became more tumultuous and complex. He started to notice things about her that he had never seen before. They started to do things they had never done before. Sometimes she confronted him about his change in behavior, and sometimes she completely blocked him out. It drove him mad. Some days she would not leave him alone, trying to seduce him and distract him; other days he would try to come on to her and she would ignore him, or slap him.

But the night that Amara must have been conceived, it was unlike any other. They had been fighting off and on for weeks. He was growing angry with her, and yet at the same time he needed her more than ever. Josette was calm and beautiful and serene, but she could barely manage so much as a kiss without stopping him. Whether it was for fear of his disappointment, fear or propriety, he wasn't sure. He knew that he loved her, but the thought of being only with her for the rest of his life seemed like a death sentence. The thought of sleeping with her at all seemed awkward and unwanted, at least compared to Angelique.

Angelique was the near opposite of his fiancee. That night in early October, they both had been audience to countless discussions about the wedding. Should there be an after party? Should she wear a veil or a flower pin? What kind of flowers should they have? To be honest, Barnabas didn't give a damn about any of it. He spent the whole day secretly watching Angelique. At that time, it was the longest he had ever fought with her, and, at least for his twenties, the longest he had ever gone without intimacy. Not that Josette was cold to him, not at all, but she was like a little girl. She would kiss his cheek and hold his hand. But Angelique, Angelique was like the physical embodiment of his darkest lustful desires. He watched her throughout the day as she served his and the DuPres family, her eyes flashing at times with sheer jealousy and despair. A few times, he caught her gaze. There was still anger in it, yes, but also something else. He assumed it was lust because of her mischievous gaze when he eyed her neckline as she served him. But he was wrong. Angelique wanted to prove a point. She wanted to prove that she was better than Josette, that he loved her more. But, even more than that, it was longing. Insatiable, heartfelt longing.

He later slipped a note in her apron, asking her to come to his room in the night. He expected that she would deny him or tease him, like she had for the past month, but she came. When he opened the door he found her both accusatory and provocative. She would switch between insult and seduction on a dime. He grew frustrated and eventually their quarrel had morphed into a full-blown fight. At one point she raised her hand as if to strike him, but halfway through she changed her mind and pulled him into a kiss. Barnabas immediately caved to her. He was glad she was finally giving him her attentions, both because he missed them and because she had been teasing him more than ever before. But it made him even more frustrated to think he neither had the willpower nor the morals to stay away from her, even during his engagement.

This, plus the already fervent jealousy and frustration from Angelique let to a night he would never forget. It was passionate, as passionate as ever before, but it was really just a continuation of their fight. She was charming and yet vengeful, kissing him softly and then tearing up his back with her fingernails. And it only resulted in the fueling of his anger, because he knew that in a certain, twisted sense, he needed it. He needed her. She wasn't delicate or submissive like Josette was. He could let out his frustrations and lusts with her. And, before Josette came along, he could be open with her. She was always closest to him. But that night, it was clear that she wasn't any longer. He had ruined that. And either from his anger towards her, or because he simply got distracted from their roughhousing that night, he was not careful. He always was, every night except for that one.

It was only a month after that that she killed his parents, and a week after that that she killed Josette. He wouldn't have seen her pregnancy. But she would have known. She would have known that she would give birth to their child. The child that was then looking at him with such intensity that it brought tears to his eyes.

"You're-..." Carolyn started, unsure of what Amara might be. A witch? A vampire? She had no idea. Amara didn't turn her gaze from her father, though.

"Immortal, yes." Barnabas' scowl faded almost instantaneously. For the first time, he truly saw her. He saw himself in her so clearly it struck him speechless. She wasn't lying. This was his daughter. His beautiful, pale, two-hundred and forty year old daughter. She smiled as soon as she saw his expression soften into one of longing, one of awe.

He could see it now. Her eyes were the same charming dark brown as his own. Her bone structure was his. She had his high cheekbones, his sharp jaw. Even her soft lips were a near exact replica of his own. Her mother's features were there as well. They all blended together harmoniously and created, in his opinion, the most beautiful face he had ever seen. But it wasn't just her appearance that made him sure she was what she said she was. It was her gaze: deep and exuberant.

He had a child. A daughter. A daughter he had never met before, who had never even known him before. It was so much to comprehend. She had lived for hundreds of years and never known him. No wonder she seemed so incredibly awe-struck when she saw him. She had lived lifetimes without her father. In a split second, waves of longing and guilt and love raked through him until it was almost too much to bear.

There were so many questions, so many answers. Here they were, complete and utter strangers, and yet tied unlike two people are ever tied. Father and daughter. Blood and blood.

It was only a few seconds after that that he fell to the floor, unconscious.

* * *

 **Please review! Your feedback makes my day :)**


End file.
